Like Fire and Gentle Rain
by parchmentandoldbooks
Summary: After a party, complete with a red dress, Draco Malfoy tries to bury his sorrows in a bottle of Firewhiskey. A drunken walk in the rain, and his own desperation drive him to the one person he could never forget, but still hasn't forgiven. Apples and Quills Happy Birthday Draco Fest Submission Very, very drunk Draco. Acts like a bit of an idiot. Up to the author the extent


**This is my entry for the Apples and Quills Happy Birthday Draco Fest! Please go show all of the other authors who participated love as well! Big thanks to riverwriter for beta-ing this piece! Happy Reading!**

 **-Hannah**

That goddamn _dress_ was burned into Draco's consciousness.

With every pour of firewhiskey he squeezed his eyes tight, willing himself to forget how brightly she had shone, looking like something straight out of his wildest dreams. He loosened his silk tie, desperate for oxygen and relief from the hard lump that had formed just below his Adam's Apple.

She was a goddess. The way she floated throughout a room, looking positively untouchable; otherworldly. At the gala that night she had easily captured the attention of the entire room, even though she seemed completely unaware. It was there, in that crowded ballroom, loud with the din of empty conversations, that Draco realized that they could never be.

She was beloved by all, envied by most, and desired; most deeply and ardently by him. His infatuation with her had begun years ago, sometime around the first time she had shown him up on a potions project. Perhaps there was something about how forbidden she seemed that drew him closer, nurturing the yearning for her that he felt so acutely now.

Suddenly, Draco was seized by a burning rage, an anger so intense that it burned his veins; spurred on by the fire inside of his heart. Without thinking, Draco threw the empty glass and found himself comforted by the shattering of the crystal. It brought him some comfort to know that he wasn't the only thing in this world that was broken, even if that meant he had to break things himself.

How he wished he could break the zipper of that dress. How he wished he could rip it off of her and taste her flesh and feel her warmth. How he wished that she could show him how to live again.

He stood, swaying slightly and grabbed the bottle of alcohol that sat before him. He downed the rest of the amber liquid in a single swig. Inspired by the burning of his throat and empowered by the loss of any inhibition, Draco stormed out of his flat and into the cool black night.

He didn't trust himself to apparate in his current state and decided that the long walk would give him time to figure out what to say to her. She had to know how deeply he loved her, how much he needed her, and how greatly he missed her.

"You're such a fucking idiot, Draco." He thought to himself, even as he continued walking. "She left you. She doesn't even want you. Who's to blame her, you arse? You're so _fucking_ useless, Draco. She was the greatest thing to ever happen to you and you ruined it."

As the tears that burned his eyes began to swell up and threatened to spill out of his bloodshot eyes, the heavens opened up above him. The cold rain quickly soaked through his suit, numbing his flesh so that his body and soul were finally the same.

By the time that he had reached her flat, he felt like an utter fool. There he was standing in the rain, looking up at her windows like some damn pervert, feeling like the air had been forced out of his lungs. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but it was long enough for his legs to grow too tired to stand, and finally he crumpled to the pavement, too exhausted to suppress the sobs that shuddered through his body.

Draco Malfoy was a broken man. One who had been cast out by everything that had ever brought light and goodness to his life. Abandoned by everything that had once made him feel complete. He was an empty shell who had all but given up hope of ever being whole again.

Finally, he stood and took one last look at the building, vowing to himself that it would be the last time. He rubbed his eyes, once again trying to forget the way that she had looked in that dress and turned away, finding himself in desperate need of more alcohol.

Before he could slip back into the inky night, a voice called out, "Draco?"

He knew, before he turned that it was her. His heavy heart leapt in his chest despite his decision to forget her.

"Draco? What are you doing out here in the rain?" she asked, her voice growing closer with each word.

When he finally turned to look at her, he felt his heart stop. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, the red of her dress and the warmth of her skin standing in sharp contrast to the darkness that threatened to envelop them both. Her eyes, so warm and brown, met his and he felt any resolve he had shatter.

"Fuck," he muttered, running his hands through his hair.

"Draco, you're soaking wet. It's freezing out here." She whispered, reaching out to touch him.

"Yes, it seems that I forgot my umbrella at home, didn't I?" he replied stifly.

In this moment, when her warmth and light and her very essence seemed to spread throughout her body, starting where her fingertips lay upon his chest, Draco wanted more than anything to pull her close and drink her in.

"Come inside, Draco, you're going to catch a cold if you stay out here any longer."

In a manner that seemed entirely casual, she took his hand and led him towards her building. As they climbed the same stairs he had mounted dozens of times, Draco was reminded of every night they had spent around her small dining table sharing glasses of wine and glances that always seemed to promise something more.

They had reconnected by force, when Draco needed approval from the Ministry for a new project his company was working on and she was the designated official. At first their meetings were purely business, even though the magnetic draw she exerted on him was immediately present. As their afternoons in her small office grew longer and the sun grew warmer, they began having dinners and drinks together over files and parchment. By the end though, something had changed. It seemed that neither of them could deny their feelings for the other.

They began seeing each other in secret, each convincing themself that there was still something unfinished, or that there was still a reason other than their own desires that continued to bring them together. From the beginning, Draco knew that he was in trouble, that he was rapidly losing control over himself and the situation. He knew that the longer this went on, the more that he was falling in love with her and the harder it would be to separate himself from her when the time came.

"You're not right for her." He reminded himself each time he reached her door, just as he did now that she was leading him into her flat, as she had so many times before.

Shyly, as if they were meeting for the first time, she turned to face him.

"Let's get you out of these clothes," she breathed, reaching to unbutton his suit jacket, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.

With a featherlight touch she pushed his jacket off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She was close enough for Draco to feel her heat through his clothes and to be wrapped in her soft perfume, making it nearly mpossible for him to breathe. With his jacket gone, she started on his shirt, carefully pushing each button through its hole, gradually exposing his skin as her fingers worked down his torso. As the air met his skin, his flesh erupted in goosebumps, sending waves of electricity down his spine.

" _Fuck it,"_ he thought to himself, abandoning anything that was keeping him from reaching out to her. Gently, impossibly slowly, he brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face and cupped her cheek.

At his touch, she stopped moving and raised her eyes to meet his own. The moment they shared seemed to stretch on indefinitely, until without warning he lowered his lips to hers. Instantly, a searing flame seemed to scorch his insides and spread throughout his entire body. He tried his best to blame it on the bottle of firewhiskey he had tried to drown his sorrows in, but knew that this woman, made of fire and gentle rain all at once was what set his heart and soul alight.

He pulled her to him, pressing her tightly to the exposed skin of his chest as she snaked her arms around his neck. It was the only encouragement he needed, lifting her small form to rest against him completely before pressing her to the wall nearest them.

They broke apart and he drew back, looking her squarely in the eyes before peppering her chest with gentle kisses as she tangled her delicate fingers in his hair. Feeling dizzy with anticipation, he tugged at the zipper that had been expertly hidden in the seam of red charmeuse that clung tightly to her body. With a quick tug the dress collapsed onto the floor, losing the magic that had transfixed him so deeply earlier that very night.

"Draco." She breathed, arching her back so that her warm skin could reach his lips as he pulled away from her again.

"What's wrong, pet?" he growled, his grey eyes clouded with lust and something more.

"More." she groaned, clenching her own eyes shut tightly.

"Look at me, Hermione." He commanded, grasping the underside of her thigh so that his fingertips came to rest tantalizingly close to the juncture of her legs. "Look. At. Me. You want me now, pet? You want me now that it's convenient for you? After you _fucking_ left me, Hermione?" He muttered as he rewarded her, parting the folds of her sex and thrusting first one, then two of his own long fingers inside of her.

A low moan escaped her rosy lips as Draco suckled at the hollow of her collarbone. They remained there, her legs tangled around his waist while his fingers worked inside of her until Draco could not wait any longer. Without ceremony, he quickly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, releasing his painful erection. As he deftly lowered her onto him, he felt like his legs might give way.

Her sweet warmth welcomed him home, and her purrs in his ear threatened to push him over the edge all too soon. No longer holding back, he thrust into her deeply and roughly, feeling immense pride as her soft mews grew ever louder until she was crying out loudly, shattering the heavy silence that had fallen between them.

"How. Dare. You. Fucking. Leave. Me. Hermione." He groaned, punctuating each word with a thrust that brought him to her very core.

"You _told_ me to, Draco." She cried, "You _told_ me that we weren't good for each other. _You_ left me."

"For fuck's sake, Hermione, you of all people should know not to listen to me. I'm a miserable fuck who is despised by the world. Something this sweet was never meant for me."

"Draco _fucking_ Malfoy, if you do not shut the _fuck_ up and let me finish, I'll _fucking_ strangle you."

With a low growl, something sounding purely animalistic, his last threads of resolve snapped, and Draco drove into her hard and fast, not letting up until he felt her walls tense around him. Shudders racked her body as her cries fell silent, her entire body going limp as Draco reached his own climax, holding her hips close to his as he came. Spent, he lowered the two of them to the floor where they remained a tangled mass of limbs and heaving chests as they collected themselves.

She was the first to move, gently removing herself from him before standing and looking down at him with an unreadable expression.

"Tea?" she asked, before walking around the table into her kitchen, where her stove clicked on and she filled her kettle with water from the tap.

"Merlin, Hermione, we have a passionate, angry fuck against your wall and the first thing you think of is bloody tea?"

"You're still frozen, and I shudder to think about how much firewhiskey you've had tonight, I'm sure that a cup of tea is the best thing for you."

Wordlessly, he stood crossing the room and leaning against her cupboards so that he could watch her delicate movements.

"Stop looking at me like that." She said, her voice devoid of emotion.

"Like what, Hermione?"

"Like I am the root of all misery." When she answered, it was her eyes that gave her away. They seemed to be overflowing with sadness and a deep longing, one that Draco recognized from his own reflection.

"Is that what you think? That you bring me despair? You stupid girl, you are the only good thing that I've ever had. Fuck, Hermione, I've loved you for so long."

Without responding, she crossed the space between them, looking up at him with those sad eyes. "Why did you tell me to leave?" The question seemed like a trick, like there could be no right answer but Draco knew that she wouldn't let it go.

"Because I love you that much, Hermione. I couldn't bear the thought of you standing next to me, having my shadow cast upon your light. I couldn't bear the thought of people looking at you the same way they look at me, as if you were some sort of traitor for loving me. You deserve so much better than me, Hermione." As he told her all of the fears he had tried to hide, he felt tears once again begin to spill down his face.

"How dare you decide what's best for me, Draco Malfoy? How dare you decide that I couldn't handle it, or that you weren't good enough for me?" She growled, her own eyes filling with angry tears as she pointed at his bare chest. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! You DESTROYED me when you ended things. You decided that I didn't get a choice in the matter." When the tears finally fell, Draco knew, beyond any shadow of doubt, that he had been the biggest idiot throughout all of it.

He pulled her close, crushing her to his chest and willing her to feel his own guilt. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. You're right. I was a bloody wanker. Of course you're strong enough, of course you should've had a say in it. I miss you so much, Hermione. So. Fucking. Much. Please, forgive me for everything I've done that has hurt you. Seeing you tonight made me realize how much I need you, how much I want you, and how desperately I hope that you're never with anyone else for the rest of your days. You complete me."

"I only came tonight because I wanted to see you." She whispered, "I was hoping that my dress might get your attention," she added, giving him a smirk that rivaled one of his own.

"Hermione, you could have been wearing a potato sack and I wouldn't have been able to take my eyes off of you."

"So that's why I'm supposed to forgive you? Your insatiable desire for me?"

"You're supposed to forgive me because I've just confessed my love for you. It's rather like an obsession, Hermione. I want to make you happy, I want to be the man who makes you feel loved, I want to be the fucker who makes you feel good."

As the kettle began whistling, Draco feared that the moment between them had come to an abrupt end. He watched as Hermione turned off the burner and moved the kettle to another one, but rather than reach for the cupboard she kept her teacups in, she turned back to him.

"You want to make me feel good, Draco?" She asked, her voice lowering to a husky whisper.

"For the rest of my miserable days, Hermione. I'll do anything, if you'll have me."

"Well then, as you wish." She smiled, kissing him softly.

He grinned, and picked her up, once again, before carrying her to the bed and lowering himself on top of her.

"I suppose next time I'll stick with the potato sack, it's much easier to get off."


End file.
